Letters
by Jewls13
Summary: Tristen, military school, letters, Rory. I know it;s been done to death, but this is different, I promise. It's my first Gilmore fic, so please r/r. PLEASE __COMPLETE. I know it;s weird but please give it a chance.
1. Default Chapter

AN-first Gilmore Girls Fic. Be kind and please review  
  
Disclaimer-I own nothing. Although I wish I owned Tristen, or maybe just his lips….  
  
  
  
  
Dear Mary,  
I'll bet you never expected to hear from me again huh? Well I always pride myself on doing the unexpected. So how'd the scene go? I'll bet Paris was ticked. I herd she played Romeo-man she'd kill for an A. Wait a sec, I just thought of something. Did you have to kiss Paris? 'Cause if you did, Damm. I'm sorry I missed that. Sweet Mary involved in girl on girl action, with Paris no less! Sigh, I'll bet bag boy didn't mind that.   
I'll bet you're wondering why I'm writing to you. Well, I'm writing to all of my woman back at Chilton, and I didn't want you to fell slighted. You did occupy much of my energy there. Just wanted to let you know I was still alive.   
  
Love, Tristen   
  
PS. I don't expect a letter back, I wouldn't be surprised if you burned this without reading it. 


	2. Tristen2

Standard stuff applies  
  
  
Dear Mary,  
  
I had a feeling you wouldn't write back. No real reason you should. It's not like we were friends, for long. There was that brief moment of peace, but that was short lived. It was nice though, wasn't it?  
Well, military school is..well…hell. But that's to be expected. Makes me long for Chilton. The discipline is kinda nice though. I mean, there isn't a lot of time for minds to wander. I guess it's supposed to me like that. The guys here are cool. Some are a bit scary though, I won't lie to you. I look at them, and wonder if I really belong here. I can't help but think that I do.  
  
Love, Tristen 


	3. tristen3

Standard stuff applies  
  
  
  
Dear Rory,   
  
I'm sitting here in class and I just had to tell you something. We're doing poetry (you haven't lived 'till you're discussing poetry with a bunch of military guys) and I came across this poem that reminded me of you.  
  
PARADOXES AND OXYMORONS  
by John Ashbery,   
  
This poem is concerned with langauge on a very plain level.  
Look at it talking to you. You look out the window.  
Or pretend to fidget. You have it but you don't have it.  
You miss it, it misses you. You miss each other.   
  
This poem is sad because it wants to be yours, and cannot be.  
What's a plain level? It is that and other things,  
Bringing a system of them into play. Play?  
Well, actually, yes, but I consider play to be  
  
A deeper outside thing, a dreamed role-pattern,  
As in the division of grace these long August days  
Without proof. Open-ended. And before you know it  
It gets lost in the steam and chatter of typewriters.  
  
It has been played once more. I think you exist only  
To tease me into doing it, on your level, and then you aren't there  
Or have adopted a different attitude. And the poem  
Has set me softly down beside you. The poem is you.  
  
  
  
Love Tristen 


	4. tristen4

Standard stuff applies  
  
  
  
  
Dear Rory,  
  
I don't know why I keep writing to you. I know I have no chance of getting a letter back. And you're probably not even reading these. It's kinda nice though. Throwing words and feelings out into the void.   
I said before that there isn't a lot of time to think about stuff. But then the nights come. They're long, and cold. Make me think. Make me wish, and hope and dream. I don't like the nights.  
I got into a fight the other day. It was a good one too. Made me feel better. But it really wasn't my fault, I swear. See, no one here knew where I came from. I mean, they knew I was from Connecticut, so they called me rich boy or blue blood. But see, they did know how right they were. Anyway, the other day I got a letter from Paris, (she's been writing to me. Why can't you?) and in it were some pictures of home. She decided to give me tour of Connecticut through pictures. Well, the pics got passed around and when some of them saw how I lived, they decided to "teach me how the other half lives." I got the crap beaten out of me, but it felt good in a way. I took a few of them down though. As it turns out Blue Blood can take a punch. I still remember the last time I got into a fight. This time, it doesn't hurt half as much I did that night. Glad you weren't here to see it this time.  
  
Love, Tristen 


	5. tristen5

Dear Rory,  
I passed! I kicked ass. I'm in the top of my class! And I didn't get it because of my money, or my dad, or my charm. I earned it. I've never earned anything in my life-well nothing good anyway. I did earn a lot of stuff that you said to me. Rory, I never felt like this before. I'm making it. And I'm doing it on my own. It's this amazing sense of freedom. It's incredible. I think. I think I'm gonna be ok.   
I just found out, and I couldn't wait to tell you. I think you'd be really proud of me Mary. At least I hope you would be.  
  
As always,   
Love Tristen 


	6. tristen6

Dear Rory,  
I just talked to my dad. I told him that I was doing really well, and I asked if I could come home for the upcoming break. I told him that I've changed. But he didn't care. He said that he didn't want me home. He said that no one did. I thought, that if I just tried hard enough, if I cared enough; that, that he would care too. But god I was so stupid. He said that I was incapable of change. That the only reason he kept me around was because he needed an heir. I was a DuGray. The only thing that makes me worth anything is the blood running through my veins. I wonder if he's right. I mean, I know that he isn't. But maybe there is some truth to it. I never did anything worthwhile. The best thing that I ever did was leave.   
  
Love, Tristen 


	7. tristen7

Dear Rory,   
Here I am. Lying in bed. Almost everyone has left for break, and I'm still here. I told you about the nights, right? How they get really long and lonely. Do you know I what I think about when I can't sleep? Everything. I think of everything but you. But for some reason tonight, I can't get you out of my head. So I thought I'd write another letter they you'll never read.   
When I first met you, it was a game. I didn't see you as anything else. But you didn't play. I'd never met anyone like you, and that scared me. You were different, and I didn't know how to deal with you. I didn't know how to play you. You freaked me out Mary. I think I wanted to make you like me. If I couldn't beat you, I'd convert you. I made your life miserable, I know that. I made you hate me, and you don't really hate anyone. I wish I could say I'm sorry, I know I'm supposed to feel sorry, but I'm not.   
I'm not sorry for any of it. Because if I hadn't bothered you, if I hadn't made it my personal mission to make you crazy, then I would have never gotten to know you. If I had seen you that first day and ignored you, I don't think we would have had much opportunity to speak. I never would have gotten a look at that caring heart of yours. I'd have never seen that fire in your eyes. So I'm not sorry, for any of it. I'm not sorry for teasing you. I'm not sorry for making you hate me. I'm not sorry for kissing you that night at the party. I'm not sorry for any of it. I'm not sorry for having known you, Mary, I'm not. And I refuse to pretend I am. I just want you to be happy Mary, that's all. But I'm not sorry. I'm not sorry for having had you in my life. Even if it was just for a little while.  
  
Love, Tristen 


	8. tristen8 The End

"Hey, DuGray, mail call"  
  
He looked at the plain while envelope. It was addressed to him, but there was no return address. He turned it over and carefully opened it. Inside there was a single sheet of computer paper. In the middle of the page there were four words, handwritten. No names, nothing. All it read was:  
  
  
  
I'm not sorry either  
  
  
  
He closed his eyes, and for the first time ever, cried out of joy.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The end. So, what do you think? 


	9. Authors Note

OMG, I am blown away. I wasn't planneing in writing a sequel, but wow.  
20 reviews in one day! You guys are soooo much nicer then the Buffy fic  
crowd. There I have yet to break 10.  
  
I knew a lot of people would be pissed at the story. Not only the way it  
ended, but also the fact the Rory didn;t write back sooner. I just  
really liked the idea of Tristen writing to Rory almost as a journal.  
Opening himself up like he never has before. And just not knowing, and  
being sure that she wasn;t even reading it. I think that would be the only  
way that he would be able to be that honest.   
  
God, reading these reviews really made me weepy. You like me, you really do!  
Thank you all so much. It really means a lot to me.   
  
I'd go one by one, but that would take forever. I am reluctant to write a sequel  
and here's why.   
I think that adding more would lessen the impact that I intended. It's nice to know  
that if I write more Gilmore Girls fic, that I will be welcomed. You have no Idea  
how much this means to me. Thank you.  
  
Jewls13 


End file.
